


The Things They Have Learned

by ArwenLune



Category: Leverage
Genre: Developing Relationship, Multi, OT3, Romance, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/ArwenLune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things they have learned about each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 10 Things Parker and Hardison Have Learned About Eliot

**He needs warm floors.**

They didn't understand why he kept on his heavy boots in their HQ or in Hardison's place when he clearly didn't like wearing them indoors, but it made sense when they finally saw his apartment. Soft carpet that invited them to take off their shoes - and he did as soon as he entered. Parker had wiggled her toes into the plushness, padded across the warm tiles in the kitchen. Underfloor heating. And she'd understood, about the cold concrete memories.

 **He needs to be warm, period.**

Luckily he's a warmblooded person, and sleeps under only a sheet most nights, at least in his own place, where it's never cold. He's always careful about layers and coats and having changes of clothing if there's a chance he'll get wet.

They thought that was just sensible survival instinct, or military training, and it probably is, but they've realised that being cold puts him on edge, and that it sparks off his claustrophobia. That time when they were spending a few days hiding out in an abandoned hospital building he'd been restless, with none of his usual calm. On anyone else it would have been called anxiety. They don't ask, because they're pretty sure he didn't want any of them to notice. But the time Eliot ended up in a river in November, Hardison had been ready with the towel and the sweatpants and hoodie he's taken to keeping in the van.

 **He hates it when any of the team are cold.**

Nate likes it to be chilly in the apartment that's now their headquarters, and since he lives there, he gets to set the thermostat. After one planning session that ran into the night, several fleece blankets have appeared around the couches. Parker hadn't thought about it, but she snuggles into the bright red one, pulls her toes up under it, and leans against Eliot's side, humming to herself.

 **He likes it when they sing together**

Even though Hardison can't carry a tune in a bucket, and Parker throws her whole body into the music but doesn't always hit all the notes, Eliot likes it when they sing with him. He didn't used to sing. The most he did was hum, in a rare moment of relaxation. But since the studio job where they really heard his voice, which coincidentally was around the time the three of them got stuck in a motel room for a whole day and Parker had that gleam in her eyes and things just started _happening_.. Since then he sings a little more often. In the car, sometimes - and often when he's cooking. And when Parker goes "Ohhh, love this one!" and flings her whole self into the Vienna Teng number he's been singing under his breath, or when Alec makes up silly lyrics to whatever Eliot's strumming on his guitar, there's a smile that hasn't ever been there before.

 **He won't take pills unless he's seen them in their original packaging.**

For the longest time Hardison thought he was just opposed against painkillers, because he would never accept any when offered. Thought it was something about trust, about being fuzzy around the edges in the presence of other people. Even if those people were the team. Then one time there'd been a box of ibuprofen pills on the table and a sleeping Eliot on the couch, a hot water bottle in the small of his back. Hardison had asked, later. The answer had been a grumbled mix of not liking the artificial sleepiness of some medication and reacting badly to some of them, with an unspoken echo of _needing to know what was about to happen to him_ , and they could understand that. The one time that Sophie had suggested slipping something into his orange juice, Parker had made sure, in her typical way, that _that_ was not something that would be considered an option ever again.

 **He needs light at night**

It's one of those things they would never have noticed if they hadn't started sharing rooms when the team stays in a motel. At his own place the streetlights shine through the curtains enough to provide a glow to see by. That first time in a motel, he'd grumbled at Parker, who kept turning off the bedside light which he'd kept on a dimmer. Finally, when she wouldn't stop asking why, Eliot had sighed and told them that he woke up disoriented sometimes, and needed to be able to see around him. There'd been something of embarrassment in his voice, but before he'd finished explaining, Parker had crawled out from her spot in the middle of the bed and turned on the bathroom light, leaving the door at a crack.

 **He's a snuggler**

 _Well who'da thunk it?_ The man was always so gruff and tense and generally discouraged touching of any kind. Hardison remembered very well how uncomfortable his joking attempt at 'hugging it out' had made Eliot, and how delighted he'd been at the time by having found a way to make the other man cringe.

Now the hitter was the one to reach out and hold. First it had been mostly toward Parker, who had inexplicitly developed a similar need for touch, but it hadn't been long before Alec had been drawn into those moments by a strong arm and it was the three of them, holding on hard. It usually goes on until Parker says 'squish!' and the tension drains and they're a lazy tangle of limbs, nobody in a hurry to let go.

 **He's an insomniac**

Those 90 minutes aren't by choice. That he is an uneasy sleeper at best hadn't been a surprise to either of them, but that the snatches of sleep caught between hours of spoken books and meditation really had been all he got... that explained a few things. Like the occasional extra-gruffness after a particularly crappy night. And why he only drinks coffee in the morning, the rest of the day it's herbal tea. They each try in their own way to help him sleep, and failing that, at least relax.

Hardison is good with his hands, the other two agree, and he occasionally demonstrates that on Eliot's back and shoulders until the man is asleep, or at least mumbling about his bones being jelly.

Parker has offered to read the phone directory out loud for him, an offer she's not been taken up on, but she has also found him audio tracks for guided meditation, stuff that is meant to lead you into lucid dreaming. Eliot had been weirded out, but she'd bugged him until he tried it, and to his surprise had managed some sleep without his usual restless dreams.

 **He really should be wearing his glasses**   
****

He likes to uses glasses as props, but that isn't the only reason he wears them. Parker has stolen his wire-rimmed pair once - off his face without him realising, which she's rather proud of - and noticed that they are prescription. Not very strong, but enough that he really should wear them more often during briefings. He has contacts too, but he's grumbled about how they make his eyes feel, and he usually goes without. Parker and Alec know he gets headaches sometimes that they ascribe to his refusal to wear his glasses. Sure, during jobs that have a chance of fighting they are not practical. But outside of that?

It isn't completely altruistic. They have agreed between them that he looks unfeasibly hot with the glasses, and so by unspoken agreement when he wears them they pounce him whenever the opportunity arises, and sometimes when it doesn't but there is a sudden agreement that he needs to be in the bedroom with them _right now_. He doesn't seem to object, and after a few variations on 'keep the glasses on' he seems to be wearing them a little more often. Well, positive reinforcement is the key to building good habits, right?

 **When he walks into a horse stable it's a little like coming home**   


They've both seen it, the way he takes a deep breath when he walks into a horse stable. The way his shoulders ease and his forehead relaxes fractionally. His past is still a country with well-guarded borders, but they know that he worked in a stable as a teen, and then again after he got out of the military. They know that to him, the horses and hay and - Hardison can't leave it out - the horse shit, smell like home.

Alec has done some background reading about horses and riding, ostensibly for jobs in the future but most just so that he understands what Eliot says in the rare moments he shares something about his previous life. Parker, more hands on, has taken a few lessons. She wanted to prove to herself that horses aren't murderous, and she wanted to understand the soft look Eliot gets whenever he handles a horse, the calm in his eyes, the gentleness in his hands. And once or twice, when the riding stopped being two creatures at cross-purposes and there was a sudden sense of _flow_ , of a wave rolling, of a kite soaring, she'd understood.

They don't share his passion, and horse shit still smells like horse shit, but when he mentions, carefully casual, that he's going to help out for a week on the ranch where he used to work, they wordlessly back their bags. Eliot smiles, and takes them home.


	2. 10 Things Eliot and Hardison Have Learned About Parker

**Pickpocketing is about the thrill, not about the stuff**

She likes money, but what most people carry around in their wallet isn't worth bothering about. Why she does it now is part habit - perhaps even compulsion - and part for the thrill. Sometimes they play catch-and-return - a game that has honed both men's skills in sleight of hand. More often she'll turn over her loot to Eliot, who puts on his most respectable face and heads to the lost and found.

 **Her whole life fits into two bags**   


She likes money, not stuff - that was one of the first things Eliot learned about her. That she has so little stuff she cares about that it can literally fill two bags, that took a lot longer to realise. That one of those bags contains her custom made climbing gear and the other holds Bunny and not much else - well, it's just telling, as Hardison says. She's not good at getting attached. Not to stuff - and not to people. So they've all been focused on 'now' and have left the future to fend for itself.

It's why they don't buy her gifts - they just treat themselves to stuff they know she'll like. Which is the reason Eliot now owns a huge Marble Run set - and a magic wand vibrator - and Hardison has a full set of Disney films on DVD.

 **She doesn't know how to braid her own hair**

She can do a simple braid in front of her, but braiding your own hair takes a level or coordination she's never learned. Alec knows it's because she never had anybody to teach her. He used to braid the hair of his foster sisters when Nana's hands were too sore with arthritis, and when Parker needs a French braid in her hair for a job, he sits down with her and, despite her fidgeting, gets it done nicely enough to earn a compliment from Sophie.

 **The scent of garbage bags makes her anxious**

She'll help in the kitchen sometimes - cooking fascinates her, and though she doesn't do any herself, she likes watching Eliot closely, as if it's some magic trick she's trying to figure out. She'll set the table and load the dishwasher. One thing she won't do is empty the bin. Eliot just grumbles and does it himself - finding out what motivates Parker to be, well, _Parker_ can be an exercise in futility.

But when Hardison needs her help to quickly clear a pile of costume changes, he sees her face when he tosses her the roll of garbage bags. And he remembers - his clothes in one of those, and a few small things in his Star Wars school backpack, and a new house and a new school while all his stuff smelled like garbage bag.

 **She always, _ **always**_ **has an exit strategy****

They know her life so far hasn't been conducive to building lasting relationships, and that it's a matter of personal pride to have an exit plan - always, everywhere. How that works exactly when the three of them are getting toward what could be called an honest-to-God relationship, neither of them know.

Eliot understands the problem, and has come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as damage control if he does have to leave. Leaving them would mean leaving the team, leaving everything he's come to trust and love and rely on over the past few years. But since he doesn't see himself leaving until the team falls apart, or is smashed apart either by bad guys or law enforcement - and in that case he would be in the middle of it, protecting the others, and not in any position to make an escape - he's pretty much stopped thinking about it.

He hopes that never happens. He hopes that they will be together, and good, for so long that Parker one day realises that she's forgotten her exit strategy, and that it doesn't matter.

 **She practises her seduction technique on them**

Sophie has been giving her lesson, trying to improve Parker's people skills. Manipulation and seduction lesson is one the guys particularly enjoy, because she usually practises her flirting skills on the both of them. Not that they are particularly useful practice subjects, because Parker can turn up in a muumuu and still wrap them both around her finger just by throwing them a smile. It's not like they can resist her. But Sophie compliments her confidence after those practice sessions, and the three of them ride high on the wave of feedback buzz between them.

 **There's something wrong with her - and that's okay**

She knows she isn't like most other people, that there are all sorts of things normal people understand about each other that fly over her head. That used to make her sad, in the moments she was trying to belong. It felt like standing outside, looking in through a window.

It doesn't bother her these days. Eliot and Alec, they are her _people_. They love her, weirdness and all. And only a step further away are Nate and Sophie, who give her things to do that she's good at and teach her about things she's not so good at. She has four people, and the rest of the world can go hang.

 **She is fascinated by watching things grow**

Eliot doesn't know if it's because she's never tried to grow food, or because she's never been anywhere long enough to see anything grow. The concept that the big plants in his greenhouse used to be the seeds that she swiped from his mail in February - that blows her mind. That they can eat a meal from things that used to be those small seeds... he's seen her look from the bowl full of tomatoes, zucchini and peppers to the wooden box where he keeps seed packets. Bowl to box. Box to bowl. Puzzled. It makes him smile.

He's given her a few seedlings of her own. It's a robust sort of cherry tomato, and as long as they remain in his indoor greenhouse under the growth lamps and with the automatic watering system, they should do just fine. Every time she visits she makes a beeline to the plants, kneeling down and cooing to them. When they are just starting to produce fruit he finds her there at 3am one night. Maybe he'll ask Hardison to set up a webcam for her.

 **She is horrible at taking care of them when they're hurt or ill**

When either of them is badly hurt or ill, she won't even come near them. The one time that Sophie had strong-armed her into visiting Eliot while he was down with a severe concussion, she had speed-talked for 5 minutes and then fled the room. Eliot hadn't much cared so long as the talking stopped, but Hardison had tracked her down to her hiding spot in the eave spaces of their HQ and prodded her until she talked to him. It hadn't been entirely coherent, but he concluded a few things. That it terrifies her to see strong people hurt - and if Eliot can get so badly hurt that he needs to spend at least a week in a darkened room and can't stay awake, then anything can happen to anybody. Alec had had to admit that it had him spooked too. Parker cares, hard, about the team and about her lovers in particular, but she doesn't really know how to handle that, and that it upsets her when they are unwell. And it's her natural inclination to avoid upsetting things at all costs, even if that makes her feel guilty too.

He'd explained it to Eliot next time he visited the other man. Eliot had grunted and indicated the bedside table. Bunny was sat there, as well as a bowl of pretzels. They'd just appeared out of nowhere at some point. It's a Parker thing.

 **She's never had a birthday party**

The first time her birthday comes around again after they realised that, they go all out. "There is no 'over the top' when it comes to birthday parties" Hardison declares. Eliot grins and bakes a huge cake with a rainbow of icing colours - never mind that the sugar and the E-numbers will have her bouncing off the ceiling all day, it's her birthday and a sugar high is practically required.

Later in the day they'll go to one of those places where you can do indoor skydiving in a vertical windtunnel. The lack of height will hopefully be made up by the fact that the three of them can ride the airstream together - for two half-hour slots. She's always bugging them to go jump off buildings with her, so they hope this will satisfy her need to share the adrenaline rush.

But the part the guys are most looking forward is the start of the day. Instead of the usual wake-up - which is, to be fair, Eliot sticking his head around the door and grumbling about pancakes going cold - there will be a couple thousand dollars in small bills, and a really big ventilator. Alec and Eliot can't wait to see her face.


End file.
